Queen of the Night
TITLE: Queen of the Night
AUTHOR: Tienco (tienco@msn.com)
COUPLE: W/S
RATING: R. . .maybe almost NC-17. . .there is shagging, but it's not too descriptive
DISTRIBUTION: My site!! www.oocities.org/tienco_21 and various lists. Ask if you want it, I'll let you have it. Oh, Kylia, and Jai can always have it. . .if I've given you permission for something else, you are welcome to this.
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon. Gosh, I wish I were Joss. I'd have such a good time with Spike. . .and Angel. . .and Xander. . .and Graham. . . and Lindsey. . .throw Willow and Faith in there and it's a party!! Oh, yea, and Whitney Houston sang "Queen of the Night" (I know, I know, it's Whitney, but the song *rocks*)
FEEDBACK: Of *course*. Makes me write more.
SPOILERS: Hmm. . .anything after season four.
SUMMARY: Spike finds out about Willow's. . .other personality
NOTES: I'm thinking of making this a series (tentatively called Night and Day). Let me know if I should. . .I know you guys will want a sequel.
DEDICATION: To Jinni. Yep. Jinni. She's coolie. And my snugglebunny Neko for thinking it was cool, and a great idea.
~*~*~*~
Spike entered the Bronze, glancing around warily. He knew that the Slayer and her little Commando toy were in Iowa for a week, and that the moron had taken his ex-demon somewhere far away from Sunnydale to have a week filled with no demons, no spells, no research, and a lot of sex. Spike had decided to venture to the Bronze, knowing it would be a boring night, as usual.
But then pretty much anything was better than sitting in his crypt. . .
Perhaps he could find some little chit to take back to the Motel 8 down the street, show her a bloody good time, drain her dry. . .Spike scowled as he remembered his chip situation. There would be no draining of any humans that night. At least not from his fangs.
He glanced over the sea of writhing bodies, all dancing in time to the loud pulsating beat of the music. It was something Spike had never heard, but ha d a good bass line, something he could imagine himself dancing with someone to.
He sat back in his chair, holding his beer in his hand. He closed his eyes and let the music carry him away, imaging dancing with someone. In his mind it was always Dru that he held in his arms, holding his long gone love tightly, nipping at her skin, softly spoken words of long days filled with torture spilling from his lips. Drusilla always did like the torture. . .
But it wasn't his Dark Princess in this particular daydream.
He frowned, trying to figure out who was in his imagination. She was looking down, her long red hair covering her face. She looked up at him, green eyes sparkling with mischievousness. < Red? > he thought. He groaned softly, trying to push the thought away. Lately, he'd been thinking of the
little witch more and more, which angered him. He was a demon - William the Bloody, Childe of Angelus! He shouldn't be thinking of Willow Rosenberg, the Slayer's best friend, one of the most innocent humans he'd ever met. But thoughts of that small body grinding against him wouldn't go away.
"Damn it!" he cried, slamming his beer down on the table. He automatically scanned the crowd, looking for a redhead that would satisfy his urges for the night. Perhaps he could shag her unconscious, and thoughts of the witch would finally leave his mind.
When he laid eyes on the woman, he knew that she would be the one. Her back was to him, short blood red hair flying around. Her arms were in the air, stretched high above her head. She wore a backless shirt, three tiny straps tied together to keep it on her body. There was a tattoo of a heart on her back, with a railroad spike through it. It was dripping blood down her back. Spike frowned, wondering what the significance of the tattoo was. However, he decided that since it was a spike, she had to have some redeeming qualities for a human. . .perhaps she would have enough darkness in her soul so he could persuade her to run away from Sunnydale with him. . .
He shook his head. < Don't need any more chits on my heels. Took care of bloody Dru too long, and then Harm? Well, anyway, I'm a loner now. Just need an occasional shag. >
His eyes drifted down her body, enjoying the way her tight black leather pants molded to her ass and her legs. She was beautiful from behind, he just hoped that she had a pretty face.
She spun around, eyes closed, dancing with everyone and no one. Her makeup was dark, making her look like a true child of the night. There was something familiar about her, about her lips, the way they pouted slightly.
When her eyes opened, and met with his, he knew who she was.
Emerald eyes danced, and her dark blood red lips curled into a grin. Spike almost fell out of his chair, his mouth dropping open in shock. It was Willow Rosenberg. Little innocent Willow, the one who blushed when she thought about sex - the one who couldn't even *say* sex! And here she was, alone in the Bronze, dancing the night away, looking like a true vixen.
As she started stalking towards him, her hips swaying with the loud music, his cock jumped to life. She looked completely different than he was used to, confidence surrounding her like an aura. He watched in amazement as she brushed guys off left and right, her sparkling green eyes never leaving his.
She closed her eyes briefly as a new song started, something with drums and a pulsing guitar. She stood in front of him, a slight grin on her face. She leaned forward, murmuring in his ear along with the song. "I've got the stuff that you want, I've got the stuff that you need, I've got more than enough, to make you drop to your knees. . ."
She pulled him up, grinding her body against his. "Cause I'm the queen of the night. . ."
Spike groaned, pulling her close to him. "Red, what is this?" he asked, genuinely confused about her entire attitude change. She was still the same human, he knew by her smell that it was the Willow that helped the Slayer every night with research. Somehow though, the innocence he normally smelled radiating from her wasn't as strong as usual. It was there, but it was masked by something different, something spicy, something sensual.
It was the smell of desire.
"Don't make no difference if I'm wrong or I'm right, I've got the feeling, and I'm willing tonight. . ." She ran her nails down his back, gripping his ass teasingly, then pulled away. They trailed over his waist, one hand snaking around and down, squeezing his throbbing erection teasingly. "Well, I ain't nobody's angel. . .what can I say? I'm just that way," she purred in his ear.
He growled slightly. "Red, if you keep this up, I'm going to shag the hell out of you," he promised.
She turned around, grinding against his erection. She bent over, his hands on her back, running along her spine. He could feel her body trembling under his touch, the smell of her arousal assaulting his senses. The witch wanted him! His fingertips traced over the tattoo, wondering why she had a symbol of who he was on her back.
She straightened back up, turning her head to the side. She reached up, wrapping her hand around the back of his head, pulling it down so she could whisper in his ear, "You've got a problem with the way that I am, they say I'm trouble, and I don't give a damn. But when I'm bad, I know I'm better. . .I just want to get you and turn it up for you."
He gripped her hips tightly, pressing his hardness into her backside. He turned his head slightly, his lips traveling over her neck, tasting her. "You are mine tonight," he said, his voice husky.
She turned back around, grinning. "I'm the queen of night, Spike," she purred.
He grabbed her hand and went back to his table, grabbing his duster. He took a long swallow of his beer, then dragged her out of the Bronze. They walked in silence to his crypt. He pushed open the door and shoved her in, ready to take control of the situation and show the witch exactly what she'd done to him, what she made him want to do to her.
She spun around, a grin on her face. "Strip," she said.
His scarred eyebrow rose. He tilted his head. "Excuse me?"
"I'm in control, Spike. Either strip, or I'll leave."
His other eyebrow rose, meeting the height of the scarred one. He shrugged, deciding that any shag was better than none. He hurriedly took off his clothes and crossed his arms over his muscular chest, his hard cock standing proud and erect. "Go sit in the chair," she murmured, licking her lips. His body was delicious, and she was looking forward to her night of passion.
The vampire rolled his eyes and went to the chair, sitting down. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped slowly, watching her through half lidded eyes.
"Don't cum yet," she smiled. "I don't want this to be over before it starts."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm a big boy, Red," he growled. "I can take care of myself, don't ever bloody doubt that."
She reached behind her back, untying the strings that held her shirt on. The motion reminded him of the tattoo. "Red, what's the deal with the ink?"
She frowned slightly, not understanding his question. "The ink?" She moved her hands to the back of her neck, waiting to untie the last set of strings.
"Tattoo? Spike thru the heart?"
"Ah," she said, smiling knowingly. "I got it right after you kidnapped Xander and I. I couldn't get you out of my mind, and wanted something to remind me of you. I never thought you were coming back, you know."
He frowned slightly. "You've wanted me that long?"
She licked her lips. "More than you know." She pulled the string, moving her hands away, allowing the shirt to flutter to the floor.
Spike inhaled sharply, devouring her perky breasts with his gaze. "Red. . ." he purred. Her nipples were rock hard from a combination of the cool draft of the crypt, and the lust she felt at the moment.
She toed her boots off, throwing them to the side of the crypt. She slowly unbuttoned the button to her leather pants. She eased the zipper down teasingly, wanting to hear him beg. However, as Willow knew, there would be no begging from William the Bloody. He just sat there, watching her, stroking his cock. She licked her lips again, imagining what it would feel like to sink down on him, his thick cock filling her up. Her body ached, needing to feel him inside of her. It had been so long since she'd been with a man. . .
She eased the pants over her hips. She pushed them to the ground, and stepped out of them. Spike moaned as the smell of her arousal hit him head on, being much stronger now that it wasn't surrounded by leather. He licked his lips, momentarily surprised that she wasn't wearing panties or a bra. But he wasn't complaining as he was looking at her slightly flushed naked body.
And she was so beautiful naked. . .
"Red," he purred, running his hand through his hair. "Red, come here. I need to feel your warmth."
She walked to him, eyes locked with his. Her hips swayed, but as he couldn't pull himself away from the desire sparkling in her eyes, he didn't notice. She reached the chair, and straddled him, her knees sinking between his legs and the arms of the chair. His hands went to her hips and he tried to guide her to his cock. "Uh uh, Spikey. I have control." She grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from her body, moving them up to the top of the chair, beside his head. She pushed them into the back of the chair, holding them there.
She moved up slightly, sinking herself on his cock. They both groaned - her because she was finally being filled up by the one she'd wanted for so long; and him because of the tight warmth surrounding his hard dick. It had been so long since he'd shagged a human.
She began a slow rhythm, until finally leaning in, riding him hard. She was pressing down on him, slamming against her spot, the one that made her arch her back every time.
Spike allowed her to hold his hands down, and even held back from thrusting against her, wanting her to have all the control she needed. She was too good of a shag for him to deny her anything.
He licked his lips and leaned up to kiss her, but she turned her head, not letting him. He frowned slightly, wondering why she wouldn't. Her head dropped and she started to run her lips along his shoulders and neck, but never moving high enough for him to capture her lips.
His body tightened, signaling his impending orgasm. She let go of one of his hands, pushing her hand between their bodies. She brushed her nail along her clit, shuddering slightly. She was waiting until she felt his orgasm before she allowed herself to cum.
Finally, he exploded, crying out as the white-hot feeling of desire bolted through his body. When she felt her walls being coated with his seed, she twisted her clit, crying out in pleasure. She tightened around him, her orgasm washing over her body.
She collapsed against him, breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around her, moving one hand up. He tilted her chin up so he could kiss her. She turned her head again, and murmured, "Don't want to kiss you."
"Why the bloody hell not?" he growled.
"Because," she said, sliding off his body, "a kiss is so personal and intimate. That's not what this was. This was a good shag, and that's it. Well, it was a great shag, but nothing more. This wasn't you and I getting together, or the beginning of a relationship. This was two horny people deciding to relive their tensions with each other, instead of alone." She picked up her clothes and started dressing.
"That's it? There's nothing else?" he asked, almost disappointed.
"That's right, Blondie." She smiled. "I'm going home now, as a matter of fact."
"What's wrong with you? You aren't the Red I've come to know and abhor."
"Nothing's wrong with me," she grinned. "I just decided to play because everyone was out of town." Her laughter echoed through the crypt. "You think Buffy or Xander would believe that I could be like this? They don't know my Night personality, and they never will." She shrugged, finally getting her shirt tied behind her back. "Now," she continued, "I have to head home. Need to go to sleep."
"You don't want to sleep here?" he asked, still shocked at the obvious differences between the Willow he knew and the one he'd just shagged.
"On a tomb? I don't think so, Spikey." She turned, walking to the door. She threw a grin over her shoulder. "See you next week at the research party."
And with that, the witch walked out of the crypt, the door shutting behind her.
"Bloody hell," Spike whispered softly. He was beyond shocked, not believing that the witch - sweet little innocent Willow - had just shagged him, told him it wasn't a personal thing - that it was only a good shag, and then just walked out.
He found himself grinning, not being able to wait till the next Scooby meeting. "Life just got bloody interesting," he murmured.
END
*~*~*~*
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